NOT PROOFREAD!
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Prologue
Pt 1:
"Ugh, I love your bed. It's so comfy.", you moan as you drop yourself to Oliver's bed. His scent fills your nose and you immediately relax.
"You literally have the same exact bed.", Oliver says as he opens his laptop.
"Yeah but mine does not smell like Oliver."
He turns around in his chair and looks at you with furrowed brows. "I didn't know that was a criteria."
You lean back onto your elbows. "Well, now you know. And now stop talking and put on the movie."
Oliver gets up and salutes. "Aye, ma'am."
You laugh at his goofiness; that's just how Oliver is. All though on the quidditch pitch but a silly idiot when he's with you.
One of the reasons you fell for him in the first place.
He drops next to you and places the laptop on his knees. One arm snakes around your waist to pull you on his chest, where you rest your head.
Cuddled up, you start watching a movie. As the characters speak and interact, Oliver absentmindedly slips one hand under your shirt and strokes the warm skin on your back.
You smile to yourself and enjoy the quality time.
After and hour or so, you get thirsty. Lifting your head, you look for something to drink and spot a bottle of water on the nightstand.
You scoot up a little higher.
"What are you doing?", Oliver asks.
"Nothing. Keep watching."
You bend over his chest and reach out for the bottle, when all of a sudden, Oliver snatches his phone that was laying next to the water bottle.
He presses it to his chest, his eyes wide.
You stop your action. "Geez, Ollie! What was that?", you ask confused and a little worried.
"Nothing."
You can hear in his voice that he's lying.
You sit up. "Oliver, I just wanted to grab the water bottle. Why the hell did you snatch your phone like that?"
He sighs. "Just let it rest.", he says, rolling his eyes at you.
Truth is, you can't let it rest; you are too curious to what he's hiding. Oliver never hides anything from you, so his behavior is suspicious.
You watch Oliver shoving the phone under his pillow. Then you lay down on his chest again, waiting for him to fall asleep.
With time, his breath steadies and when you look up, you see his eyes are closed. He's asleep.
Careful not to move to fast, you reach over him and very slowly pull the phone out from under the pillow. The second you have it, Oliver wakes up again. Quickly you snatch your hand back and get up ad run to the bathroom.
"Y/n!", he yells and gets up, running after you.
You slam the door into his face and sit down on the toilet. Thank god you know his password. You open a group chat between his friends and scroll trough the messages.
Oliver starts banging on the door. "Fuck, y/n, give me my phone back! Now!"
You reply: "Why? What are you hiding from me?"
Another bang. "Just give it back!"
You ignore his continuous yells and bangs and start reading again.
Until a minute after, you read something that cuts like knifes through your flesh.
"So, Oliver how's it going? Already lured y/n into your bed? Time's running."
Another friend responds with: "I knew he wasn't going to make it. You'll miss on these 20 galleons ."
Your heart literally shatters. You feel it fall apart.
So that's what he was hiding: the fact that he only slept with you for 20 galleons.
You feel the urge to throw up, but bite it back.
You continue reading. Although it was obvious in his texts that Oliver was uncomfortable with his friends and the situation, he didn't quit the bet.
You get up and wipe your tears. I have to get out of here.
When you open the door, you find Oliver sitting on his bed. You can tell by his puffy eyes that he has cried too. "I'm sorry.", he whispers.
You sob. "You're a liar, Oliver. Everything is a lie."
Without hesitation, he drops onto his knees. "Not everything. I swear to Merlin, I love you!"
A hollow laugh escapes your lips. "Why didn't you tell me about the bet then?"
"I was afraid I was going to loose you.", he croaks.
Tears start running down your cheeks again and your heart clenches as he starts crawling towards you. You force yourself to turn away. "You did loose me.", you whisper and grab your bag.
Before Oliver can get up on his feet again, you have already left.
Pt 2:
Oliver had ran straight after you after you stormed out of his dorm. The next hour he had spent banging on your door until he had got the hint to leave you alone and left. Shortly after that came the messages that you had brushed off, but having to go trough everything, especially blocking him when everything you wanted to do was process in peace had caused another breakdown.
You over-taught how hard it is going to be to face Oliver again and therefore couldn't get yourself out of bed on Monday and Thursday.
Then you decided enough was enough. Despite the trouble your teachers would cause when you missed class any longer, you were sick of how much control Oliver had over your life.
Let's just do small steps., you thought to yourself.
And that's how you ended up in the almost empty Gryffindor common room. You knew Oliver had quidditch practice today, that's why you thought it would be safe to go down there and get used to being outside of your dorm again after 4 days.
After half an hour you finally convinced yourself everything was fine when the portrait hole swung open and revealed a few of the quidditch players, Katie and Angelina in the front.
"He really need to get his shit together", Katie scoffed.
Yeah, Wood is fucking unpredictable lately.", Angelina replies. Fred told me Wood has been on the pitch constantly the last days."
They don't see you sitting on a armchair and brush past you, followed by their team mates.
Your heart hurts in your chest when Oliver climbs trough the portrait hole. His gaze flutters to the girls dormitories, then he sighs and walks the other way to the boys dorm, right past you.
You try to melt into the armchair but it's no use. Of course he sees you, he's been praying to see you for days.
His mouth opens in surprise and you try not to care about how bad he looks. Pale face, dark circles, no humor in his eyes.
He clears his throat. "Hi.", he whispers.
You sink your nails in the armchair as his voice meets your ears. It's causing another wave of pain washing over you. You want to get up and leave so badly, but it's as if his brown eyes took the ability to control your body from you.
He sits down across from you, his fingers wrapping tightly around the broom he's still holding, making his knuckles turn white.
"Say something, please.", Oliver pleads, leaning forward into your direction.
When your faces are leveled, that's when you snap out of your trance and jump up.
"There's nothing to say.", is all you manage to say before you brush past him.
Before you get away, his hand wraps around your wrist. You flinch at the touch and at the same time want to melt into it. Ugh.
"I have a lot to say."
His voice is pleading as he speaks to you, a soft expression in his eyes. "Fuck, just let me tell you everything. I need you. It's beyond sexual need. Fuck, I love you, I can't be without you. I hate every second I have to spend without you. Even quidditch sucks."
Internally you groan. Why does he have to make this so goddamn hard? He won the bet, he got the galleons. Why can't he just leave you alone?
It makes you angry somehow, at least that's what you tell yourself as your heart starts banging against your rib cage. Angry is better then heartbroken.
Furiously, you snatch your wrist from him. "I'm glad you got to talk this off of your heart. Doesn't change a thing though.", you hiss into his face.
With that, you finally brush past him, feeling yet again how your heart rips in your chest.
Despair and anger at himself take control over Oliver.
A loud crash and a look over your shoulder confirm that Oliver had thrown away his broom and stormed up the stairs to his dorm.
"What the hell was that?", Fred and George shout.
You sigh. Yeah, what the hell was that?
Pt 3:
The next following weeks, you tried to cling onto the anger the best you could because it overlaid every other emotion. Eventually, the anger did vanish, slowly but surely.
What was left was heartache, and even more present was the concern.
As a bystander, you could watch from a first row seat how Oliver turned into a shallow of the person he used to be. Ambitions and passion left him completely, leaving an uninterested and aimless human being that took absolutely no care of himself.
Rumor has it that he even refused to continue training the Gryffindors at quidditch. Harry temporarily took that position.
At the beginning, you refused to believe that the break up could effect Oliver that badly that he gave up on his biggest passion, until you saw him sitting in the library on his own while from afar, you could watch people in red uniforms zoom across the quidditch field.
The very same evening, you were sat in the common room, talking to your friends, when an extremely exhausted Harry climbed through the portrait hole. He went straight up to you.
"Enough is enough!", he said, furiously loosening the tie around his neck.
You raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
Harry scoffed. "God damn it, you really need to speak with Oliver. I have enough things on my mind besides being a fucking team captain. The twins are driving me mad, and I am really sick of swing Oliver go to waste. Either you talk to him on your own will, or I will force you to!", he rambled, leaving you quiet and surprised.
"I- I don't think- what-", you stuttered.
Your friend cleared her throat. "You know, I think Harry is on to something. You look alright, but you really aren't. I'm not saying you and Oliver should go back together, but you at least need to talk about what happened. And I know you feel bad for him.", she softly spoke.
You shook your head. "No!", is all you said before running up the stairs to your dorm.
Two hours later, you still weren't able to stop your mind from spinning and very reluctantly decided that Harry and your friend were right. You could not watch this any longer. After a while of searching, you found Oliver still sitting in the library even though it was almost curfew.
Not knowing what exactly you want to say, you pull out a chair across from Oliver and take a seat. His head snaps up and his eyes widen when he sees it's you. Confused, you watch him pinch himself.
"What was that?", you ask.
"I was just making sure this is real.", he answers.
You can't help but slightly smile. "It is. I think we need to talk. You...changed a lot.", is what you mumble, fidgeting with your tie.
Oliver sighs deeply. "Yeah, well...I just find myself uninterested in anything. It's like I lost not only you, but myself as well.", he explains, his voice shaky and his eyes slowly filling with tears.
You hardly manage to swallow the lump in your throat that threatens to suffocate you. "I'm really sorry for that.", you croak.
To your horror, Oliver let's out a gut wrenching sob. "How-", he swallows hard. "Why are you apologizing? I deserve all of this. What I did is really unforgivable and no matter how long I will suffer, I won't complain, because I really deserve to suffer."
Lead by the primal urge to comfort Oliver, you lean out for his hands that clenched around a quill. He leans into your touch immediately, letting out a shaky breath.
"Ollie, I know we are broken up, but I can't watch you go to waste. You used to be so...bright and passionate and now you won't even climb on a broom? That's so wrong. Please don't throw away your life, just because I'm no longer by your side.", you whisper, locking eyes with him.
"But you are my life.", he whispers back, tightening his grip on your fingers when he feels you stiffen. "I know you don't believe me, but I really love you and I am terribly sorry."
When you search for emotions in his eyes, you see nothing but sincerity and honesty and pure regret.
When you speak up again, your voice is steady and clear. "I believe you."
Pt 4:
The way back to the dormitories was rather quiet, for Oliver felt that you were still hesitant and did not want to push you.
"How about we talk after class?", was the only thing he had said, and the only thing you had said was a quiet "yes", and then you parted ways, both of you climbing up the stairs to your dorms.
And for the first nights in weeks, both of you slept through.
Making it through classes was tiring, because you could not stop thinking about what's to come. The informations the teachers passed faded out of your brain instantly, all the capacity already taken by different scenarios of how this talk with Oliver might go.
You did not know which direction to take, but you knew for sure that you needed either a clean cut oder a fresh start, nothing in between.
You decide to wait for Oliver outside, at the stairs that lead into the castle. That is most likely where you would catch him, because his last lesson was Care for Magical Creatures with Hagrid.
Sitting on your robe to avoid the cold concrete stairs, you wait, wait, wait. Until you see a group of students nearing - some of them Gryffindors. None of them are the familiar figure you're waiting for.
With every student passing, you get a little more impatient. Can it really be that he decided to stroll and take his time, when he seemed so eager to have this conversation with you?
A little anger mixes into the confusion, and you gather your things. You hear a friend calling your name from inside the castle, and that attracts someone's attention: a Hufflepuff that also came down from Hagrids lesson. When you walk past him, he grabs your wrist. "Sorry, but are you the y/n?", he asks.
You raise a brow and nod. "Why do you want to know?"
He pulls his hand back and says: "I overheard Oliver Wood talking about you earlier. Um- it's not my business, but just that you know: He did not stood you up."
"And where is he then? Because it really looks like that.", you reply, sounding bitter.
"Hagrid showed us the Hippogryphs, and another Gryffindor upset them, and... well, Oliver tried to pull the Gryffindor away and got hurt. He's-"
You already know where to find Oliver and run up the stairs as quickly as possible. You head what had happened to Malfoy last year when he insulted a Hippogryph, that's why Dumbledore decided to introduce those to older students only.
The way to the infirmary seems to stretch, the way seems endless but eventually, when you run around the last corner, you almost crash into Hagrid and know your guess was right. His giant upper body is covered in blood- Oliver's blood, you realize with a shudder.
When you barge into the quiet room, you spot Oliver instantly lying on a bed, the originally white linen now the color of a horrific dark red.
Worry steals your breath away as you near and take in the paleness of his skin.
The shirt is ripped to shreds on his chest, but you eventually realize that the blood flow stopped. For a second, you thinks it's because he is drained from blood, drained from life, but then you see his chest rising and falling, rising and falling.
Madame Pomfrey gently maneuvers to aside and sets down a glass of water and a pill on the nightstand. "He will be fine.", she says with a reassuring smile.
With a flick of her wand, Oliver's shirt is gone. Another flick, and the blood is gone too, the sheets back to white, and what's way more important: The skin, where the claws of the Hippogryph ripped his skin open, is slightly reddened, but healed.
Only now it sinks in that he is indeed fine.
When Madame Pomfrey is gone, you monitor the rising and falling of his chest, an evidence of life, and you have never been so relieved by something that simple.
Pt 5 (last part):
The happy laughter coming in trough the open window of the infirmary is a stark contrast to your own innermost. Worry still has you in a heavy grip, even hours after Oliver got healed by Madame Pomfrey. He is still in asleep, only that his unconscious turned into a simple slumber; that much you can tell from how he tossed and turned 30 minutes ago, waking you up from your own short rest.
Now you're sitting beside his bed, one elbow resting on the mattress and your head resting on the palm of your hand.
Oliver is laying on his back, his mouth slightly opened in his sleep. Your right hand is floating in the air, a few centimeters from his face away and the warm air he breathes out brushes your fingers in a steady, calming rhythm.
It helps easing your nerves; it helps letting you forgot that for a few minutes, you actually thought Oliver was going to die and you would have to life in a world where he does not exist anymore.
But he does exist. He is alive.
You are thankful for every breath that hits your fingers and you silently wait for Oliver to wake up.
And finally, one endless hours later, he eventually starts stirring and then, at last, his eyelids flutter open. He groans from the light but before he can close them again, a softly smiling, beautiful face covers his line of sight.
"Ollie.", you whisper. "God, you're finally awake."
You tenderly brush a strand of hair away that clings to his cheek and rest your hand there to cup it.
He just looks up at you, to mesmerized by your touch to say a word.
"Can you say something? How are you?"
Only when he sees the concern evident in your big eyes, he snaps out of his trance and clears his throat. "Uhm- I'm fine I guess."
You help him to sit up and stabilize his back with a pillow you snatch from another bed before you sit down next to him, only taking in every detail of his face. Seeing him awake, hearing his voice - it takes away the rest of your worries and fear, until you can't help but to smile widely.
"Do you need anything?", you ask after a minute or two.
He smiles smugly, saying the first thing that comes to his mind. "I would love a kiss, but a glass of water will do two.o.."
You roll your eyes at him. "At least your humor is not broken. Handing him a cup of water, you return his smile. "How about we have our talk first and then we see about the kiss?"
His smile widens only and he takes a mouthful of water as he gestures for you to start talking.
"Well...I wasn't sure if we have a chance anymore, Oliver."
"But-"
You put a hand in the air to stop him from taking, which he does immediately. "Don't interrupt me, please. I was speaking past tense, because-"
Inching closer, you take one of his hands in yours, tracing the lines on his palms. "...because I know that we need to make it work."
He tilts his head, trying to read the informations in your face. "Do you mean us? That we need to make us work?"
You nod slowly. "Yes.", you add. "I'm not naive, Ollie. I don't assume that we will be back to normal just like that. But I was so afraid you were going to die it broke my heart. It made me realize that I want to give you a second chance."
Before you can even take a breath, you are pulled into a bone-crashing hug. "Yes. That's all I wanted to hear. I swear on everything that I will make it count. I will prove myself to you I'm every way possible.", he murmurs against your shoulder where Oliver buried his face to fight the stinging tears in his eyes. "I missed you so, so much."
You pull back. "I missed you too. Don't make me regret this."
He nods eagerly. "I won't, I promise."
Now you smile wickedly at him. "So, now about that ki-"
Soft lips meet yours as Oliver captures yours in a sweet, gentle kiss that has you erupting in goosebumps. You didn't realize how much you missed his kisses.
"I love you, y/n.", he whispers against your lips.
"I love you, Ollie.", you say against his.